For Lily
by The Inkblotter
Summary: The Sword of Gryffindor comes to Harry.  An account of chapter 19 of Deathly Hallows, from Severus Snape's point of view.  Shades of SnapeLily.  Spoilers, of course.


This is a oneshot of chapter 19 of _Deathly Hallows, _"The Silver Doe," told from Severus Snape's viewpoint. It makes a couple of assumptions about what he knew regarding Harry's mission, but I've thought that a man of his intelligence would be able to work it out, especially after being told outright what had happened to Harry. There's nothing in the book that says he didn't work it out on his own.

There are shades of Snape/Lily in this story, and needless to say, it's filled with spoilers.

Obviously, I don't own any of these characters. Any text that appears in the published book (some of the dialog, in particular) is repeated here for the sake of compatibility with canon, and is not intended to infringe copyright.

* * *

FOR LILY

_December 26, 1997_

Severus Snape sat at the headmaster's desk, a thick book opened in front of him as he read it. The school was mercifully nearly deserted. Only a very few students remained for the holidays this year, and unwillingly, because with the exception of the Death Eaters' and Voldemort-sympathizers' children, the entire student body hated the Carrows.

He could not say that he blamed them. He knew the Carrows on a "professional" basis, had done so for years. Ignorant, uneducated brutes they were. The thought of them _teaching_—what an insult to every teacher, past and present, of Hogwarts. (Well, Severus recalled, except for Lockhart and Umbridge. However, he was very discriminating in what—and whom—he considered worthy of being called a teacher, and neither of those had qualified.) Severus wondered what the Dark Lord could possibly have seen in the Carrows to grant them a place among the Death Eaters, but his brilliant mind told him what he knew already. Even the Dark Lord had to have high-ranking thugs to command his lower-ranked thugs.

Oh, and lest he forget, the students hated him too, thought him a killer, he thought with a resentful glare at a particular snoozing portrait.

It was all for Lily. The false front he presented to the world, the requisite self-inflicted seclusion from any living person who might sympathize and aid him, the affiliation with the scum of the earth, even the bitter tolerance of the demands that Albus Dumbledore _still_ made of him, even beyond the grave. It was for Lily Evans. He had failed her, and that was a sin for which he would do penance for the rest of his life.

A movement appeared in the office. Severus's keen dark eyes snapped up to its source. Phineas Nigellus Black came hurrying into his portrait. Almost instinctively, Albus Dumbledore woke up, and Severus found himself suspicious of whether the old man had been sleeping in the first place.

With lightning-fast reflexes, Severus marked his place in the book with the torn photo of Lily, and shoved the book into a drawer. He stood up.

"Headmaster! They are camping in the Forest of Dean! The Mudblood—"

A flash of rage shot through Severus's mind, though not at the wizard speaking to him; in Black's day the term was quite common; his rage was directed at another person—_himself—_the green eyes of Lily Evans flooded his mind, filled with anger—anger at _him—_

"Do not use that word!" Severus snapped.

Phineas looked taken aback, but continued immediately, "—the Granger girl, then, mentioned the place as she opened her bag and I heard her!"

Ah, yes, the enterprising Trio had taken the portrait of the old headmaster from the Black house before they fled, a bit of ingenuity that Severus and Albus both had been impressed with. Severus had a very strong suspicion that it had been Granger's idea; this wasn't the sort of thing that Potter would think of, much less Weasley. Phineas had reported that Weasley no longer spoke, and Severus wondered if he had deserted them. He had voiced this suspicion to Dumbledore, who, in his typical opaque manner, had said that there was nothing to worry about.

"Good! Very good!" said Albus's portrait, and Severus knew that he had not been asleep. No one could become that alert that quickly. "Now, Severus, the sword! Do not forget that it must be taken under conditions of need and valor—and he must not know that you give it! If Voldemort should read Harry's mind and see you acting for him—"

Honestly, did the old man think he was _that _dim?

"I know," he said curtly. Oh, did he ever know.

He briefly wondered how it was that portraits could say the Dark Lord's name and not set off the Ministry's alarm, but perhaps since they were not living people, they didn't register.

He went to the portrait, gave it a gentle tug on its edge, and stepped back as it swung forward to reveal the hiding place of the true sword. He picked up the artifact. How odd it was that he could wield the sword, he, a Slytherin. Perhaps Dumbledore had been right when he said that the school Sorted too soon. Perhaps there were some students who were a perfect match for more than one House.

Severus didn't expect Dumbledore to have changed his mind, but it was worth a try. "And you still aren't going to tell me why it's so important to give Potter the sword?" he asked the portrait, throwing his traveling cloak over his robes and preparing to leave.

He knew; oh, he knew. Severus was not a stupid man. Five months earlier, when Dumbledore had asked him to pass Potter a book from his private library and Severus had reported that the book in question was missing, Dumbledore had exclaimed excitedly, convinced that Potter or Granger had obtained it before leaving. Severus had gone to his own library at Spinner's End and read _his _copy of the book to see what could be in it that Potter's little band would have need to know—and had struck gold, locating a chapter in the book that made sense of everything. He knew perfectly well what Potter was doing. He knew that they had managed to obtain the locket of Salazar Slytherin; Phineas reported seeing occasional glimpses of Slytherin's mark, and Severus guessed that this was a Horcrux. And Nagini, since Dumbledore had told him that someday the Dark Lord would fear for her. And, he realized belatedly, that diary for whose destruction the Dark Lord had been so determined to punish Lucius. And almost certainly that ring that had cost Dumbledore his life. Severus wondered if there were others.

Oh, and Potter himself. Small wonder that the Dark Lord's soul spontaneously broke apart that night. Severus's lip curled in derision. What an utter _fool _the Dark Lord had been to do something like this.

Severus could tell Dumbledore what he knew, but he would prefer to be entrusted with it by choice. The old man had made him give up any possibility of being trusted by the living. The least he could do was trust him _himself._

"No, I don't think so," said Dumbledore. Severus felt a stab of anger but hid it behind his instinctive Occlumency mask: _It's for Lily. It's all for Lily._

"He will know what to do with it," Dumbledore continued. "And Severus, be very careful, they may not take kindly to your appearance after George Weasley's mishap—"

_Oh, you think so? Really? How very perceptive of you, _he thought, gritting his teeth. But there was no point in telling Dumbledore off. "Don't worry," he said, his Occlumency unable to disguise the coolness in his voice. "I have a plan."

He left the office, the sword hidden deep in his robes. As the stairs descended from the high office, Severus cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself. The last thing he needed was for a member of the staff to see him leaving.

* * *

Once outside the grounds, Severus Disapparated to the forest. He didn't know where Potter's band would be, and he would have to use magic to find them. It was bitterly cold. He did not want this to take too long, but at the same time, also didn't want to find them too easily. They had done well to stay hidden. 

_Homenum revelio,_ Severus cast silently, and his wand tip lit up very briefly with a green light. So someone was close by. He walked a short distance until he found just the place, a small frozen pool in a clearing. Severus chuckled darkly to himself at the thought of Potter having to dive into water so cold it would kill him within five minutes. He didn't envy the boy; that was for sure.

He cast the spell again. His wand did not light up. So wherever they were, this pool was outside the range of the spell. With an elegant swipe of the arm, Severus broke the pool's icy surface and cast the Sword of Gryffindor into the frigid water.

Severus heard a shuffling in the nearby bushes and stood stock-still. He waited to see what it was, whether a creature of the forest, a fugitive, a Ministry thug, or—

A flash of auburn appeared. Weasley, then. Severus gritted his teeth. The boy _had _deserted them and was attempting to rejoin them now, and somehow, he knew where Potter and Granger were. This was not good. If a bumbler like Ron Weasley could find their camp, it was a miracle that they had made it this far.

Dumbledore's irritatingly knowing, opaque, incomprehensible comment then came back to him. "There is nothing to worry about." Possibly the old headmaster had given the Weasley boy a way to find the others that did not break the enchantments. He hoped that's what had happened.

Severus waited for the redhaired boy to pass before moving back. It was distinctly possible, he realized, that his first spell had only sensed the presence of Ron Weasley, rather than Potter and Granger. Still, if Weasley had a means of finding the others, as Dumbledore had implied, then Severus's best chance of finding them was to follow the boy.

Severus trudged silently and invisibly behind Weasley, who was foolishly flapping his arms in the air as though he expected to bumble right into the camp. Severus was exasperated, and it took all the self-control he could muster not to mutter, "Fifty points from Gryffindor for stupidity."

He stopped cold. His senses suddenly tingled with the remembered electric thrill of magic in the air. He was in a place that had known magic. Potter and Granger's enchantments may be secure, but they could not hide the crackle of magical energy that was generated. He waited. Weasley, naturally, sensed nothing, but continued stamping through the forest, his robes sliding over the ground in his wake.

When the sounds of shuffling, of crunching snow, of brush (why didn't the boy use a _Muffliato _charm? Severus knew that Potter knew that one from his Potions book, and had used it in front of Weasley) were gone, he cast the spell again. _Homenum revelio._

Severus Snape's wand lit green again, revealing human presence close by. This was it. He sank into his memories, not even attempting Occlumency for once, because he wanted this to last, to be resilient enough to lead Potter where he needed to go without fading away.

A perfect image of eleven-year-old Lily Evans filled his mind, her long red hair cascading down her back as she met her best friend in the Great Hall the first day of classes, to compare schedules with him. She didn't care that they were in different Houses. The children looked over the pieces of paper that their respective Heads had given them, sharp eyes darting back and forth. They had three classes together: Potions, DADA, and History of Magic. The first of these was Potions, which they had second period today.

"If you get there first, save me a seat, please," Lily said through a smile. Her eyes sparkled.

_Expecto patronum!_

The doe burst from his wand, brighter than the moon, brighter than the snow that the Patronus illuminated. She cantered in a circle before facing her creator. _Go, _Severus told her mentally. _When Potter appears, take him to the sword._ Severus stepped into the shadows and waited.

Almost immediately, Potter's head appeared from an invisible tent, followed by the rest of his body. Severus caught sight of the glittering green "S" on the large locket that dangled from his neck. The Patronus met his eyes, recognizing him, and turned in the direction of the pool.

"No!" Potter said in a scratchy voice. "Come back!" He followed the doe, Severus close behind him. If Potter was going to be about like this, with no disguise, he would need someone to cover him invisibly.

The doe led the way, Potter following behind, then Severus. As he watched the back of the boy's head, he remembered what Dumbledore had told him, and felt sick. This boy was all that was left of Lily, and he would have to die, solely because of the Dark Lord's demented obsession and his belief that the limits of magic did not apply to him. Severus's eyes caught the glitter of emerald on gold again, and a red-hot rage flooded his mind. He wanted nothing more than to seize the thing, set fire to it, stab it himself, destroy it; it was part of why the last remnant of Lily Evans was walking ten feet in front of him with a death sentence.

They had reached the pool. The Patronus turned to face them and vanished, vanished into darkness like the person it represented, like the boy would soon do, once Severus was forced to tell him—

Severus took a deep, silent breath to get control of himself.

Potter lit up his wand and turned around, looking for enemies. Severus was invisible. He wondered if Potter would think to cast the human-presence spell. It appeared not.

Potter's eyes, Lily's eyes, caught sight of the pool. _Go, _Severus urged him silently. _Go to the pool._ As if obeying him, Potter moved to the edge of the ice.

Severus waited. It might take Potter awhile to work this out. He hoped it would, in fact; it would not speak well of the boy's common sense if his first reaction was to leap into an ice-cold pond on a winter's night.

"_Accio Sword."_

Severus smirked. That spell was one of Potter's favorites, that and the Disarming hex.

The boy began pacing around the pool, oblivious to the sounds that Severus heard approach the clearing. His dark eyes darted in the direction of the sounds and caught a glimpse of auburn again. Weasley had found his friend. The redhaired boy hid himself behind a large tree and waited, watching Harry walk around the pool, watching along with Severus as Potter murmured something to the sword and resumed walking.

Finally he stopped, heaved a sigh, and began to unbutton his clothes. So he had got there. Weasley's mouth opened in horror, but he dared not jump forward yet.

Potter was shivering now, his chest bare, except….

Severus's black eyes snapped to attention. Except for the locket. What was Potter _thinking?_

Before he could think of what to do, Potter had split the ice and dived into the pool. Weasley was frozen in horror. Severus waited, watching the surface of the pool. Chunks of ice floated as the surface rippled, and bubbles came to the top and burst. He waited. Potter wasn't coming up. With a glance to Weasley, who was still frozen in shock, Severus considered how long it had been. Nearly a full minute. The Horcrux was throttling him or dragging him down; Severus was sure of it, and if Weasley didn't act, then he would have to rescue Potter and Obliviate both of them. He made for the pool, accidentally swiping a branch.

A yell split the cold air and Ron Weasley bounded forward. To Severus's infinite relief, Weasley threw himself into the icy water and surfaced with a semiconscious Harry, who was turning blue, the chain of the locket constricting his throat. Weasley grabbed the thing and yanked it as hard as he could, snapping the chain—Severus's mouth broke into a twisted smirk—and threw the Horcrux aside. He bent over his friend, checking for a pulse, and then gazed into the pool uncertainly. His blue eyes went wide at the sight of the sword, and, after hesitating briefly, dived into the water again.

Severus waited for him to return to the surface before Disapparating.

He had wanted to see the destruction of the horrible thing, to feel a thrill of schadenfreude, but it was unwise to wait any longer. Dumbledore's picture would be waiting to hear what he had to say.

* * *

He returned from the infinite black limbo of Apparition and found himself at the gates of Hogwarts. Lifting his arm to ensure that he was still Disillusioned, Severus made his way inside the castle and went up to the headmaster's office, where the twinkling blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore's portrait awaited him. 

"Well, Severus?"

Severus hung his traveling cloak on the coat rack. "They got the sword," he said. "Weasley came back, and they retrieved it."

"And you?"

"I am sure that they didn't see me," he said.

"Excellent," Albus Dumbledore said, a satisfied smile filling his ancient face. "Most excellent."

It was worth another try. "And you are still not going to tell me why this was necessary?" Severus said, opening his desk drawer to retrieve the book he had been reading.

"Oh no, I think not," Albus said.

Severus groaned and opened the book. Lily's green eyes fluttered up to meet his. From her photograph, she waved at him. _It's all for Lily._

"Besides, you know already, Severus."

Severus's head snapped up and he swiveled his chair around to meet Dumbledore's face. "I beg your pardon?" he said.

"Oh, Severus, don't try to fool me," Albus Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. "I know you. What I do not tell you, you discover yourself."

Severus could not meet the old man's eyes. He nodded briefly. "They have the locket," he said quietly.

"Ah, yes, I knew that from Phineas's reports," Albus said. "Before my death, I took Harry to retrieve that, but as soon as I saw it, I realized it was a fake, and hid it before Harry could tell. I am pleased to see that he located the real one."

"Is this—all—they have to do?"

"Oh, Severus, I am afraid not," he said sorrowfully.

Incensed, angry on Lily's behalf, Severus stood up to face the portrait. "And how do you expect them to find—however many more there are? Do they even know what they're looking for?"

"Severus, Severus," Albus said. "I trust Harry. I have given him all the aid that I can. You must remember, too, that with Harry's connection to Voldemort's mind, it is highly likely that Lord Voldemort will inadvertently reveal the whereabouts to Harry."

Severus was still incensed. "That leaves a great deal to chance, Dumbledore," he said.

For the first time, Dumbledore's eyes stopped twinkling, and the smile left his face. "Yes, it does," he said quietly. "But we have no other choice. I trust Harry, I trust Miss Granger, and you have reported that Mr. Weasley has returned. They all have good minds and can make excellent leaps of insight. We must trust them."

Severus sighed, knowing that the discussion was at an end, knowing that this time, he truly would not get any additional information about the specifics of Potter's mission. _There's nothing that you can do to help him, anyway, _he told himself. _Just wait for the Dark Lord to notice that something is wrong, wait for him to protect the snake, and then tell Potter—_

From the photograph, Lily Evans's face met his. Her green eyes looked cheerfully at him. If he had not known it was impossible, he would have thought that she herself was gazing back at him.

He couldn't stand it. Tonight, he had done something to hasten her son's end. It had to be done, certainly, but that didn't make it any easier to bear. Gently he closed the book without having read a word, put it in the desk drawer, and, with a parting glance to Dumbledore's portrait, left the office for the night.


End file.
